


The present past is gone, your future won't be long.

by anarchy_is_inevitable



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Maybe OOC, basically i think frank morrison is annoying, frank dies lol!!, joeys mentioned once, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchy_is_inevitable/pseuds/anarchy_is_inevitable
Summary: Before Frank, Susie could remember being happy.
Relationships: Julie & Susie (Dead by Daylight)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The present past is gone, your future won't be long.

**Author's Note:**

> written primarily for my friend & gf. this is 4 yall lol. also because i really really wanna do a character study w susie. sorry its short and written in NOTEPAD.
> 
> also the title is from before by shadrow #ilovefnaf
> 
> god i hope this posts right gkdfkmgdfg

Susie could hardly remember a time when things were better. A time when she could feel the sun on her skin, a time before the only thing she could feel and know was frigid cold that spread through her entire being, a time when she was kissed without fear from a friend. A time before Frank. It was something she returned to often, the idea of a world without Frank. She practically obsessed over it at this point, spending her time wishing and yearning. Mulling over thoughts that would've made her upset before Frank. 

It had always been his fault. Before Frank it was just her and Julie, before Frank she could spend her day with Julie and laugh with her while wiping the cola that spilled off of her chin and ask "Can we do this tomorrow?" and just be able to. Before Frank she wouldn't feel like grabbing her hair and screaming and grabbing her knife and stabbing until Frank couldn't hurt her anymore and she could feel good again. 

Because of Frank she wakes up sweating and biting at her hands because her hands were itching where he'd put his hand on hers and slid her knife into him. Because of Frank she'd taken someone's life and that was one that wouldn't ever come back. All because of Frank. 

Julie isn't the same because of him either. Before Frank she would like spending time around Susie, she loved to spend afternoons petting her cat and walking to the park and wrestling with Susie, she used to love to give hugs but now when Susie would ask for one she would look at her and Susie could swear that she wanted to grab her and just dig her thumbs into her eyes until she would just shut up and leave her alone. 

She had reason to suspect that it wasn't just Frank that had changed her. No one was the same after what they'd done and where they were. Frank called it 'the fog,' because it was the last thing he remembered. She internally called it 'Hell,' not verbally, because Frank would go on a lament about how God was fake and how the only deity they could trust existing was the entity watching over them, which made her want to take her knife and lodge it in his ribs. 

Even thinking of God only gave her blurry images of pale faces of family, echoing and distorted yelling, singing that seemed so far away from her mind, as if there was a fog. The only things she could remember from her old life was Julie, blood seeping around cold linoleum then blue fingers. The rest was blurry, revealing only a life that made her chest feel like it was filled with tar, dragging her down with it's melancholy and moody darkness. 

One thing clear stood out. She had a vivid vision of pressing her hand to her mouth, silent and shaking beneath her bed. Her carpet feeling stiff and bristly beneath her bare elbows and knees, cries that needed to escape being bottled up in her chest and throat. She remembered yelling, she saw the clear outline of polished shoes passing by her bed. Although she could barely recall, she remembered feeling terrified. Terrified of the man that was looking for her, quietly calling out her name and telling her to just fucking come out. She didn't, he left. 

It was the one thing she felt fine with. Not remembering all the nights she spent huddled up and terrified, walkman quietly playing music to keep her company. It wasn't something she knew for certain, just a feeling. A feeling that being here, as miserable as it is, is better than being back home. 

Julie. Julie stuck out in her mind. She remembered sitting by Julie, the wind whipping her hair around her shoulders and getting stuck on the orange creamsicle she'd been licking but she was too happy to care. She remembered the way their conversation lulled -what it was about barely mattered to her anymore, it was when she could have menial conversation and joke without thinking of anything- and Julie had turned to her with down turned eyes and asked her, "Do you ever think of hurting people?"

Before Frank she would've said no, no of course she wouldn't think of that. She'd told her that no and she was worried for Julie, she'd spent so much time alone lately and she'd been so irritable and worried and she wanted to know what was up. Julie had shrugged and said that she was probably just stressed or it was hormones and it didn't really matter. They're just thoughts, she'd said. 

Her question and words stick in her mind sometimes. Sometimes Susie does wonder if she ever thinks of hurting people, sometimes when the entity's whispers are like screams in her mind and her mind is searing with pain from a migraine she wonders if she would hurt someone, she wonders if what she's doing is just instinct to make it shut up. They're just thoughts. She knows, deep down, that these are just pointless gripes that still try to prove her innocence, that this is just her mind trying to insist that what she's doing isn't her fault. 

Actions speak louder than words. 

Before Frank the only thoughts she had of murder were when she wanted to leave her house and things were bad. Before Frank she wouldn't be standing over him smeared with red and Julie wouldn't be yelling at her, but everything was bleary and far away, she can barely hear that Julie is screaming at her and crying out a dozen pointless questions that all are wondering the same thing. Why? 

She reaches up and wipes blood over her cheap plaster mask, smearing it in the way Julie had when they'd killed the guy. She stares down at him, his mask broken from her foot and covered in blood, his hoodie stained a crimson that was pitch black where it'd been drying. 

Before Frank, death was permanent. Even as the entity claims his body and she watches as embers turn to black specks and gradually dissipate she can't find it in herself to feel anything. She feels nothing as Julie shakes her shoulders and desperately asks her 'why? why? susie, why?'

Before Frank she didn't feel so cold.


End file.
